


Confirmed Bachelors

by Say Im Your Homie (Elegant_Force)



Category: Neo Yokio
Genre: All the Vibes, Demons are evil, Fake/Pretend Relationship, If by "friends" you mean "Arcangelo is stalking him and Kaz has stopped fighting it, Kaz's characterization can be summarized as "MOOD", Kazangelo, M/M, Sadie/Charles is the biggest Kazangelo shipper out there, Someone Close to Kaz is a Demon, Take everything in this fic seriously, Take nothing in this fic seriously, The stuff in each chapter is worth more than I make in a year, They're already friends when the fic starts, well sort of friends anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elegant_Force/pseuds/Say%20Im%20Your%20Homie
Summary: With Aunt Agatha refusing to give him the week off work for the most meaningful celebration of Neo Yokio's culture and values, Fashion Week (hosted by VOGUE™), Kaz Kaan has been plunged further into the thorny abyss of his own disquieted psyche than ever before.Fortunately for him, his new "Secret Homie," Arcangelo Corelli, wouldn't dream of letting him face this Stygian Hellscape of Wackitude alone ever again. For the rest of their lives. Not even for a single moment.





	1. Part I - Rebranding for the New Season : Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My writing style is purposefully sparse. I wrote this as a script and then just sort of converted it. I didn’t want to do individual perspectives because I think a lot of the beauty of this show is that you don’t know what people are thinking, so I’ve done a third-person limited view that just describes rather than narrates. 
> 
> Just to clarify, the setup for this fic is that Arcangelo and Kaz have been secret homies for a few weeks in-universe, I wanted it to be covered in this chapter, but it was too long so I’m posting this part of the story in two chapters and it is addressed in the second one.
> 
> This fic was Beta Read and Edited by the wonderful neoyokiopolicedepartment.tumblr.com.

 

Kaz Kaan let out a signature melancholic sigh as he watched the tennis players at the country club.

Charles II stood next to him, as he contemplated the past few months.

 _It’s been more than two months since Helena left. At the time, it felt as if the city was about to explode, but then it was like everything suddenly went quiet—like all of the things we learned when the Bachelor Board were such dangerous secrets they could only be kept by imposing an oppressive silence. Still, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve made things better or worse with all of these secrets. Will they be a pressure valve for our overburdened society? Or will all of the secrets move up the clock on the ticking time bomb of our collective cultural angst, so that when the city finally does explode,_ **_that_ ** _silence will be complete and final?_

“So, _this_ is where you come to brood?” Agatha asked as she approached her nephew.  

Kaz didn’t even look up at her. “Cathy used to love this.”

Agatha followed Kaz’s gaze to look out at the tennis players. Two women played against one another, two children stumbled around trying to learn to play, and a confident man was getting rather close to a relatively unsure woman as he attempted to teach her to serve.

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “What? Cheating on you with tennis pros? I’ll bet she did.”

Kaz sighed, but didn’t look up at her. “What do you want, Aunt Agatha?”

“For you to act like an adult with a job,” Agatha answered. “But I’ll settle for you showing up to the VOGUE (Trademark) Fashion Show tomorrow. The High Council of Fashion Designers wants you to work security for the event. And you better not mess it up, because we have a good chance to land the contract to lead the security team for Fashion Week next month.”

Kaz looked up abruptly “But I don’t want to _work_ during Fashion Week! It’s the _one_ holiday I actually care about! You have to give me the week off!”  

“I gave you time off for Christmas.”

“I was _sick!_ This is employee abuse.”

“What do I look like? A union rep?” Agatha asked cynically. “Kaz, you are _going_ to that Fashion Show tomorrow. You will show up on time _and_ you will act like you actually want to be there.”

“I do want to be there,” Kaz said. “I just don’t want to work.”

“I’m _serious_ , Kaz. Between losing the Soviet driver and that stunt you pulled during the Grand Prix, our reputation is in the shitter. Not to mention the fact that the Remembrancer is up our ass with a flashlight. We need to rebrand and part of that is you doing your job properly and acting like a goddamn professional. You’ll also be handing out _these_ to all of our clients.”

Agatha reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box. She handed it to Kaz, who opened it and removed a business card. The metallic finish of the card glinted in the sunlight and it had a sleek new logo for Kaan Security.

“Business cards?” Kaz groaned. “Are you for real? And these have my _actual_ number on them! This is beneath us! We’re an exclusive security firm, not managers at Bergdorf’s! We don’t want just _anyone_ to be able to contact us!”

“We’re not handing them out to ‘just anyone’, they’re for our clients only.”

Kaz examined one of the business cards. “At least they’re well-made. Laser engraving on what I _hope_ is titanium.”

“Titanium with an anointed silver core,” Agatha said. “Demons can’t touch them without feeling pain, so we should be able to avoid being hired by people who turn out to be demons, at least. Seeing as _you_ apparently can’t tell a demon from a potential date. They also have a tracking device in them, so you won’t be able to lose any more clients. Our contracts give us the right to track our clients with the cards. That’s why it’s imperative you don’t give them out to anybody else.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. Hand the cards out to the clients,” Kaz answered.

“See that you do, Kaz,” Agatha said. She turned to walk away. “And no more screw-ups.”

Kaz sighed, “Ugh! I can’t believe she wants me to work during fashion week. Come on, Charles, let’s go.” He held out the box of cards, but Charles didn’t take them.

“Sir, if you wish to fly, I’m afraid you will have to hold the cards, as I will need to keep my hands free.”

“Can’t you put them in your storage compartment?”

“If you recall, you filled my storage compartment with luxury chocolate and pocket squares yesterday and forgot to empty it when we got home.”

“It’s not my fault that Godiva _and_ Tom Ford were both having huge sales. But very well Charles, I’ll carry them myself.”

“Your understanding knows no bounds, sir. Now, where shall we head next?”

“I don’t know yet. I simply know my mood has grown far darker than is suitable for club tennis courts.” He sighed. “Tyranny, thy name is Agatha.”

“Not to interrupt what would surely be a brilliant and productive expression of inner turmoil, sir,” Charles said, lowering his voice substantially.  “But you have a new message from Mr. Corelli.”

“Of course.” Kaz sighed. “Go ahead and play it.”

“It is a text message, sir. Well, actually, the message is spread out over several text messages.”

“Well, read them, then.”

Charles hesitated for a brief moment. “Very well, sir.” Charles cleared his throat. “‘Just realized it’s been almost a week since I’ve seen my fav homie on the dl.’ Then the letter ‘u’ ‘up?’ The letters ‘j’ and ‘k,’ then a wink emoji. The number ‘4’ ‘reals’ spelled with a z, ‘though, are you busy now? If not, let’s’ no apostrophe ‘hook up. Your eternal arch-nemesis. Wink.”

“You mean another wink emoji?”

“No sir, just the word ‘wink.’”

“Of course.” Kaz sighed and looked off into the distance.

“Do you not wish to respond?” Charles asked a few long moments later.

“No, I do,” Kaz answered. “I merely tire of this secrecy. Tell him that the clandestine nature of our forbidden friendship weighs heavily on me today and to meet me at the grave.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ve sent him the address as well, as I don’t believe Mr. Corelli has ever seen your grave,” Charles said, as he and Kaz landed on the rooftop cemetery.

“Yeah. I guess not.” Kaz climbed off of Charles’s back and began to lead the way to his tombstone.

“Shall I also fabricate a bottle of champagne, then?” Charles asked brightly. “To celebrate this milestone in your relationship?”

Kaz looked at him, clearly confused. “Champagne? In a cemetery? Don’t be ridiculous. This is a place of mourning. It should be treated with dignity and respect.”

“Yes, of course, sir. How silly of me.”

“You’re right. It _was_ silly of you.” Kaz stopped in front of his grave and looked at it for a moment. He lay down on top of it, making sure to align himself perfect in the center before dramatically folding his hands over his chest. He closed his eyes. “How long before Arcangelo gets here?”

“Approximately sixteen minutes, sir.”

“Good. Until then, I intend to search for meaning in a life without Fashion Week, though I do not intend to find it.”

“As you wish, sir. I’ll let you know when he arrives.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

 

* * *

 

Arcangelo made a face of moderate discomfort at the sight of Kaz lying on top of his own grave. Charles moved to speak, but Arcangelo held up a hand to stop him.  He placed his finger to his lips.“Shh.”

Arcangelo walked quietly over to Kaz and knelt down next to him. “Oh, I think I know this one. A beautiful prince enchanted by an evil witch to rest in an eternal, death-like slumber until awakened by true love’s kiss.” Smirking quickly, Arcangelo put his hands on either side of Kaz’s head, swooping down to hover directly over his face. Arcangelo’s hair hung down over his face,casting shadows over his face. He let out a small laugh. “Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey, you delicious angel.”

Kaz jerked awake, then, upon seeing Arcangelo, instantly froze.

For a few moments, Arcangelo didn’t move either. Then, he suddenly burst out laughing. He pulled back from Kaz, so that he was sitting down on top of the grave. He buried his fingers in his hair, causing it to fall over his face in perfect waves. “Oh man, Kaz, you should see your face. It’s totally priceless!”

Kaz pushed himself up and then back against his tombstone, obviously flustered. “W-What the hell, Arcangelo?”

“Come on, bro, can you really blame me? It was the only thing I could think of that was even half as dramatic as whatever all _this_ is.” He took a long look at Kaz sitting on his own grave. “And for all I know you could have been cursed. You fight evil witches all the time, right?”

“I fight _demons_ ,” Kaz answered, clearly annoyed. He slumped against the headstone and shot a forlorn, angry look at the box of business cards he’d set down next to the grave.  “The only evil witch in my life is my Aunt Agatha.”

Arcangelo looked at the grave again, obviously a bit unsettled by it. He stood up, dusted off his pants, then offered Kaz his hand. “Hey, how about we talk in a _different_ part of the cemetery?”

Kaz let Arcangelo pull him to his feet. Arcangelo quickly turned and started walking away from the grave. Kaz’s face fell as he looked back at his headstone. “You don’t like it? It’s hand-carved Cambrian granite with an antique finish—the very height of sepulchral elegance.” Kaz’s expression darkened and he folded his arms. “But I guess it doesn’t compare with the ancient family crypts you East Siders are used to.”

Arcangelo froze and looked nervous for a moment before putting on a smile that seemed almost apologetic, but still rather smug. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Woah now, no reason to get your balls all up in a french twist. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kaz’s expression shifted from suspicion back to general melancholy. “Whatever.”

Arcangelo looked at Kaz for a moment, then walked back over to him, sliding up next to him in such a way that he didn’t have to look at the grave. “It’s definitely super gorgeous. I’d look amazing crying in front of it at your funeral.” He quickly put an aggressively friendly arm around Kaz’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Don’t worry, it wouldn’t be tacky. I cry _real_ pretty, I promise.” He glanced behind him at the grave one more time, before looking at Kaz. “I just hadn’t realized your job was _this_ dangerous.”

“What are you talking about? This doesn’t have anything to do with my job,” Kaz said.

“So, you just bought yourself a grave in one of your little melancholic fits?”

“Excuse you,” Kaz said, extracting himself from Arcangelo’s grip. “I don’t have ‘melancholic fits.’ My disposition is as sunny and cheerful as a canary seersuker suit on a spring afternoon in Central Park. But if you must know, I bought it after Cathy broke up with me, so that I would have a place to mourn the small deaths—like the death of our relationship—I am forced to endure on a near-daily basis.”

Arcangelo seemed amused by the description, and began to follow Kaz away from the grave. Before he could respond, however, he noticed the box on the ground and picked it up. “What’s in here?”

“Ugh. They’re business cards. Aunt Agatha bought them.”

Arcangelo took out a card and looked at it. “At least she wasn’t cheap about it. Titanium?”

“Yeah, and they’re blessed so demons can’t touch them,” Kaz said. “She wants me to hand them out to all our clients. Says we’re ‘rebranding’ to be ‘more professional.’ She even wants me to _work_ during Fashion Week.”

“Sounds like I won’t have any competition for GQ’s blind auction, then. Luke and Freddie can’t even feel the difference between mussel and muga silk.” Arcangelo was silent for a moment. “Do you really have to work the _whole_ week?”

“Probably. The High Council of Fashion Designers asked me to work the VOGUE (Trademark) show tomorrow, if I do well, then they’ll probably want me for the main event.”

“So just bomb it, then. If you ruin things tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about getting hired for Fashion Week, right?”

Kaz’s expression indicated that he was pretty sure Arcangelo had no idea what a job was. “I can’t do that. I already let Mila defect and the Remembrancer is all over us because he thinks I helped Helena escape. If I mess this up, too my aunt will totally disown me!”

Arcangelo seemed to be considering Kaz’s words, until one caught his attention. His expression grew somewhat serious. “The Remembrancer?”

Kaz sighed. If he’d noticed the shift in Arcangelo’s demeanor, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Yeah, he’s just this anal-retentive prick who works for all the old families. But he doesn’t have anything on me. At this point, he’s just harassing us.”

Arcangelo’s expression suddenly resolved and he smiled brightly. “Ding! Brainstorm! You know what will make you feel better? A new look from the new season! That way you can even tell your aunt you’ve embraced this whole rebranding thing.” He shoved the box of business cards into Kaz’s hands. “I have a few things I have to take care of first, but I’ll meet you at Bergdorf’s in an hour, okay?”

Arcangelo then began to head for the elevator.

“Huh?” Kaz said, clearly confused. “But… as far as anyone else knows, you’re still my arch-nemesis! We can’t just go shopping together!”

“Of course not. Wink!” Just as he got on the elevator, Arcangelo turned back and held up the business card. “Oh yeah, do you mind if I keep this?”

“What the—? Ugh, sure, whatever.”

“Thanks! Later, homeslice!”

“Wait, Arcangelo!” Kaz called after him, clearly annoyed. “What are you planning? Get ba—” Kaz sighed as the elevator door closed.

“Well, sir? Shall we head to Bergdorf Goodman then?” Charles asked.

“I guess. But let’s pick up Lexy and Gottlieb on the way. You know they love to watch me shop.”

“Excellent idea, sir.”

 

* * *

 

“It sucks that you have to work during Fashion Week,” Lexy said as he and Gottlieb followed Kaz into Bergdorf’s. He was looking over Kaz’s shoulder at the business card he was holding. “But you gotta admit those are some sweet-ass business cards, B. Yo, Gottlieb, check these out.”

Gottlieb leaned over and examined it. Then he smiled. “Nice! Maybe we should get some for the bar.”

“I hear that.” Lexy reached out for the card. “Think I could get a closer look?”

“Sorry Lexy, I need to be more careful with these,” Kaz said, snatching the card away from him just before his fingers made contact with it. “They’ve got tracking devices in them.”

“Woah dude, are you serious?” Lexy asked. “Those things must have cost a fortune! Are you sure you should just be carrying them around like that?”

“No, of course I shouldn’t,” Kaz said, his tone almost offended. “Carrying a box of business cards is tasteless in the extreme. That’s why I need a card holder.”

Kaz looked around and spotted Herbert polishing one of the display cases. “Sales clerk!” Kaz said, getting his attention.

Herbert looked up, eyes full of light and purpose, and immediately made his way over to Kaz and stood in front of him with a smile. “Good day, sir. How may I be of assistance?”

“I need a card holder for some of these,” Kaz said, holding out the card.

“Yes, sir! Right awa—”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

Herbert froze at the sound of the voice behind him, his fingers millimeters away from the business card.

Kaz, Lexy, Gottlieb, and Herbert all turned to see Arcangelo with the East Side Gentlemen behind them. They all stood there in silence for a few moments, before Arcangelo stepped forward.

“What? Has my spectacular new look rendered you all speechless?” Arcangelo asked. He was indeed sporting a new wardrobe, and it was, indeed, spectacular. He flipped his hair and smiled at them.

“No. We’re just used to you and your boys rudely demanding our attention every time we run into you,” Kaz said, giving him an annoyed look.

“Well, _that_ was the old me. Haven’t you heard? I’m rebranding. Why _demand_ attention, when you can _command_ it instead? And I’m more than beautiful enough to pull that off, after all.”

“Please.” Lexy folded his arms and rolled his eyes. “Get over yourself, Corelli.”

“I’ll try, Lexy, but I’m not sure that’s possible. No one has ever managed to get over me before,” Arcangelo answered.

“What do you want, Arcangelo? Can’t you see I’m with my friends?” Kaz asked.

“Oh Kaz, haven’t you realized?” Arcangelo asked, now wearing an oddly intense smirk. “With an enemy like me, you don’t _need_ friends.” His features softened, slightly. “Though, unfortunately, as fun as our little rivalry has been, I’m afraid having an ‘arch-nemesis’ doesn’t fit very neatly with my new brand. If I’m trying to say I can rise to the top on my own merits, there’s no need for me to push anyone down.”

“That’s…” Kaz gave him a puzzled look, “surprisingly mature for you.”

“It’s not just about me, Kaz. After all, it doesn’t look very _professional_ for you to be constantly fighting with the heir to one of Neo Yokio’s most powerful families.” Arcangelo held up his hand and snapped his fingers. One of the East Side Gentlemen stepped forward quickly and rushed over to Kaz, handing him a small Louis Vuitton bag. “So, in the spirit us of turning over a new leaf for the new year, I got you this.”

Kaz looked at Arcangelo for a moment before reaching into the bag and pulling out a black leather card holder with Louis Vuitton monograms imprinted on it.

Arcangelo leaned down a bit and looked directly into Kaz’s eyes. “So, Kaz, what do you say?”

Kaz looked at the card case for a few seconds, then looked up at Arcangelo with a smirk and offered him his hand. “Alright. Sounds good to me, assuming _you_ promise not to go back on it the second I knock you out of the top spot.”

Arcangelo took his hand and shook it. “Deal. ...Not that I have anything to worry about.” He looked Kaz up and down. “Especially with you still dressed in clothes from last season.”

Kaz looked down at his own outfit then back at Arcangelo. “As much as I love this Lemaire blazer, I have to say, your new ensemble _is_ pretty chic.”

Arcangelo flipped his hair and held up his arm as to fully display his outfit. “Fine, if you insist, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He looked at Kaz with an almost sinisterly competitive smirk. “Unless you don’t think you need it, that is.”

Kaz surveyed him a few times. “Am I expected to do it just on sight?”

“Of course not,” Arcangelo took a step forward and leaned down, lowering his voice a bit. “You’re free to touch whatever you want.”

Kaz returned Arcangelo’s competitive smirk. “You’re on.”

Kaz took a few steps back, and then a walked around Arcangelo, looking him up and down. Once he’d circled him completely, he knelt down to look at his shoes, then reached out to lift Arcangelo’s pant leg enough to show a black sock with white stripes. He then did the same with the sweater. “Mohair-wool blend ...and it’s softer on the inside.”

Herbert leaned over to Charles as they watched Kaz evaluate the outfit. “Oh my, this is exhilarating, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s always inspiring to watch the young master analyze couture.”

“You giving up?” Arcangelo asked.

“On the contrary,” Kaz said. He took a deep breath before he began. “Gucci Queercore brogue black boots over vintage logo Versace socks. Versace wool blend black suit trousers, and while I can’t tell without looking, since they’d be otherwise identical, I’m betting yours have the printed belt, since, if I recall correctly, it would match your usual color palette. Tom Ford, pale yellow, poplin shirt underneath a— well, I’ll be honest,” Kaz smiled a bit, “the sweater _did_ give me the most trouble—but I’m pretty sure it’s Hermes.”

Arcangelo looked at Kaz with an almost contented smile on his face for a moment before he shrugged. “All correct.”

“And as for the coat…” Kaz paused for a moment. “Well, I’m fairly certain from the buttons _and_ the style that it’s Balmain. But I’m also _completely_ certain they’ve never made a coat in...” Kaz trailed off, clearly looking for the exact color.

“It’s midnight aubergine,” Arcangelo said. “And no, not until now they haven’t. But before we get to that, you missed a spot.”

Kaz let out a small laugh. “Oh, no I didn’t. I was just being polite. But if _you’re_ fine with everyone knowing you got that violet ganimede silk blend scarf from Versace’s women’s collection, _I_ certainly don’t mind telling them. Though, I will say it does pull the whole look together.”  Kaz looked at the coat. “Now, tell me what’s up with this Balmain?”

“Fine, seeing as you did so well on the rest of the outfit. It was a gift from their ambassador, so it was a custom job,” Arcangelo said.

“Woah, seriously?” Kaz asked. “And it’s what? Pure cashmere?”

“Naturally.” Arcangelo held up his arm as Kaz ran his fingers over the sleeve.

Lexy looked at Gottlieb and Charles, before looking back at the two rivals. Arcangelo was watching Kaz fawn over the coat with an expression that simultaneously seemed too sinister to be merely satisfied, and too genuine to be truly predatory.

“Yo, man, this shit is getting _super_ weird. Look, I guess I’m down to be friends with Arcangelo and his boys, but this is starting to feel like stalker territory to me, dog,” Lexy whispered to Gottlieb, who nodded in agreement.

Lexy looked back over at Kaz, who Arcangelo was now lightly guiding away from them and into another part of the store. “Now, come on, I saw a Purple Label jacket with your name on it.”

Gottlieb watched them walk past, shaking his head. “...Yeah, red flags, for sure. We should _definitely_ keep an eye on that.”

“Word,” Lexy answered, grimly.

 

* * *

 

“See, I told you that you’d find something you liked,” Arcangelo said from the other side of Kaz’s fitting room curtain.

“I think I was just turned off from the new collection by all of the foil outerwear.” Kaz was standing in the fitting room, now wearing a white turtleneck sweater and dark brown pants, with some more vests and jackets hanging up in the fitting room next to him.

“You don’t like it?” Arcangelo asked.

Kaz made a face. “Well, it doesn’t exactly say ‘Classic Elegance” does it? I’m not sure it belongs in the Purple Label.”

Arcangelo let out a small laugh. “And here I was worried that you were becoming disillusioned with fashion and materialism.”

“Oh? I mean sometimes I guess? But whenever I feel that way, it’s honestly pretty hard for me to care about much of anything,” Kaz said, pulling on a blue vest and looking at it for a moment before taking it off. “...Ugh, no.”

Just as Arcangelo was about to respond, one of the East Side Gentlemen tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes?” He turned around, and upon seeing who it was, his expression grew irritated. “What do you want?”

“Sorry, Arcangelo, but your phone’s been blowing up for the last ten minutes now,” he said.   

“Well, tell them I’ll call back later if I think they’re worth my time,” Arcangelo hissed.

“Man, no way I’m going to say that to your dad.”

Arcangelo sighed. “...Fine. Put the phone into my hand.” He held out his hand for the phone. He looked down at it for a second and made a face, then sighed. He turned back to the East Side Gentlemen “Hey, bad news my rad dudes, we gotta head out.” He looked at the others. “Later, new friends!” He turned back toward Kaz’s dressing room. “And I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, bestie!”  

Kaz popped out of the dressing room a few seconds later, but Arcangelo was already gone. He was wearing a short navy blue coat over the brown vest and white turtleneck. Lexy and Gottlieb walked up to him.

“Man I thought he’d never leave,” Lexy said, looking in the direction that Arcangelo had gone before looking back at Kaz. He smiled approvingly at the outfit. “So first of all, that coat is tight.”  

“Definitely you,” Gottlieb agreed.

Kaz smiled. “Thanks guys.” He looked over at Herbert. “Sales Clerk, I’ll take it all.”

“The Ralph Lauren Purple Label wool melton trench coat in Chairman’s Navy over a Purple Label quilted suede vest and Tom Ford’s cashmere silk turtleneck and brown mohair shelton trousers,” Herbert said, nearly breathless as he looked at the outfit. “All tied together with Gucci’s leather team motif loafers. Simply inspired!”

“Yes, it _is_ inspired,” Kaz answered with a smile. “Just remove the tags and charge the total to my account, would you? I’d like to wear it out.”

“Of course, sir.” Herbert dramatically produced a small pair of clippers and began to carefully remove the tags from the outfit as Lexy and Kaz continued their conversation.

“But second of all—” Lexy said.

“What? Is something wrong with my new look?” Kaz said, almost in a panic. Herbert instantly stopped clipping tags.

“Not with your new look, man,” Lexy answered. “With your new _friend_ , Arcangelo.”

Kaz suddenly seemed disinterested, and Herbert resumed his work. “Look, Lexy, I know you don’t like him, but I already told you that Agatha’s been super intense about me ‘rebranding.’ And Arcangelo has a point that us fighting all the time doesn’t look good to the old families. So, you’re just going to have to deal with it, okay?”

“Well, I for one think it’s beautiful,” Herbert said.

“The outfit? I know it is. And you already said that,” Kaz answered. He seemed annoyed by the fact that Herbert was drawing attention away from the previous line of conversation.

“No, I mean your new friendship with Mr. Corelli,” Herbert replied. “I may be just a Sales Clerk, but I’ve watched all of you bachelors for a long time now, and if you ask me, it seems obvious that you and Mr. Corelli should have been friends all along. It’s very satisfying to see you finally overcome the differences that society has placed between you.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you, but I do appreciate the support,” Kaz said in a friendly tone. “And it’s good to know that this move will play well with the public.” Kaz smiled and looked at Lexy and Gottlieb. “See, this is a great idea. You guys have nothing to worry about.”

Lexy and Gottlieb looked at each other, before Lexy sighed. “Whatever you say, B.”


	2. Rebranding for the New Season: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eager to show Kaz that he doesn’t look down on the concepts of work or employment (anymore), Arcangelo takes a modeling job at the same VOGUE™ fashion show Kaz has been hired to protect against demonic attacks. Unfortunately, Arcangelo soon discovers that he doesn’t like working anymore than Kaz does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post. I’ve been really busy with real life stuff, though I’m not sure how much less busy I’ll be in the next few weeks. I may post the next one on/near Valentine’s Day, but I should have another fic then too as I’m doing the secret Tumblr Valentine’s Day exchange. It’ll probably be a Charles Fairy Tale of some kind. 
> 
> Anyway, I’ll do the Tumblr posts of all of the needlessly expensive stuff in this chapter in the next few days, but I don’t know if I’ll keep doing it after this chapter, seeing as not many people seemed that interested. If you did bother to look at them please “Like” them so I can measure if it’s worth my time to do it. This chapter does mention my favorite outrageous rich person garbage item though: Gucci scented candles. They go for $400-$800. 
> 
> Also, now “Part I” of this fic is going to have three parts. Sorry about that, the last part will be out in probably three or four days. I wrote this all at once which is why it took so long, but it is really long, so I then split it up into two chapters. Again, sorry for the delay, but the next update should be fairly quick. 
> 
> Last, I’d like to thank NeoYokioPoliceDepartment (Tumblr) for betaing this. It was super helpful for me. Can't thank you enough. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please enjoy! As always, feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated.

Kaz sighed as he walked slowly around the large backstage dressing room of the Vogue Fashion show. Before scanning each outfit for demonic possession, he shot it a sad look. He caught sight of his own reflection in the mirrored wall behind the mannequins and walked over to it. Kaz looked at his own mournful expression, adjusting it until he was satisfied that it was properly somber, then reached out longingly to touch the mirror.

“It’s not fair, Charles,” Kaz said. “Seeing it on these lifeless mannequins and under this harsh, unflattering fluorescent lighting robs this elite haute couture of its true elegance and meaning. I feel nothing but a cruel, hollow echo of the pure ecstasy I experienced in this very studio a mere six months ago.”

“Cheer up, sir” Charles said. “At least you get to watch the show later.”

“From backstage!” Kaz was obviously upset. “This is terrible! Not only will I barely be able to see anything, no one will be able to see _me_! People can’t think I skipped out on Vogue’s first show of the new year!”

“Oh,” Charles answered. “I suppose that could affect your standing on the Bachelor Board.”

“Ugh! I hadn’t even considered that! This is a complete disaster!”

“So, this is when the old me would have said something like ‘the only complete disaster here is your outfit,’ but since I’m kind-comments-only now and your new outfit is an absolute stunner, I guess I should just ask you what’s wrong.”

“Arcangelo?” Kaz turned around to look at him, confused and a little frustrated. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Didn’t I tell you yesterday?” Arcangelo asked. His tone indicated he genuinely thought he had, though he was obviously still distracted with Kaz’s outfit.

“No.”

“Hmm...” He looked at Kaz for a few more moments, then walked over to him. “This outfit already looks _totally_ snatched, but if you want to really take it over the top…” He reached out and grabbed either end of the belt around Kaz’s coat, pulling him forward a bit as he gave Kaz a playful smile.

“What are you—?” Kaz’s expression clouded with confusion.

“Shh…” Arcangelo looked at the belt one more time to make sure it was even before dropping it.  He grabbed Kaz’s coat lapels and positioned them. “Just hold this here for a second.” He picked up the belt again and tied it around Kaz’s waist so that the open coat was fixed in place. Arcangelo looked at him again, still smiling. “Well, doesn’t get more perfect than that.” He turned Kaz toward the mirror so he could look at himself.

Kaz examined his reflection and smiled a bit. “Yeah, I actually have to admit, I agree.”

Arcangelo seemed surprised, but happy. He put an arm around Kaz’s shoulders. “See, I told you. You just need to trust me.”

“Kaz, there you are B. We’ve been looking all over for you.” Kaz turned around to see Lexy and Gottlieb standing behind him. “Thanks for the hook-up by the way. Our bar is right next to the runway. It’s totally sick.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Lexy,” Arcangelo said. “Anything for a homie.”

Lexy and Gottlieb looked at each other, noticing how close Arcangelo was to Kaz. “Wait, woah, Arcangelo?  Did _you_ do this?” Gottlieb asked.

Lexy’s expression grew suspicious. “Man, what are you even doing here?”

“Yeah, you never told me that either,” Kaz said.

“I said I’d see you bright and early.”

“But you didn’t tell me why!” Kaz answered, annoyed.

“Oh, I guess not.” Arcangelo smiled and held out his arms. “Surprise, Kazzy-K! I’m working here too!” He said it as if he’d just walked into the room and they hadn’t already been talking for several minutes.

“You’re _what_?” Kaz asked, totally in shock.

“No way, B!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Gottlieb said.

“Did you actually say ‘working?’ _You_?” Kaz asked again. He took a step back from Arcangelo, folding his arms. “Sorry, I just don’t buy it. I mean, what skill could you possibly have that people would be willing to pay you enough money to actually use it?”

“Why, my incredible beauty, natural grace, and magnetic presence, of course.” Arcangelo flipped his hair and gave a soft, perfect smile. “I’ll be modeling some of Balmain’s new collection.”

“Him? A model? No way,” Lexy whispered to Gottlieb. “Not unless he has a way to grow three inches and lose twenty pounds in the next two hours.”

Arcangelo shot a glare in Lexy’s direction. “In the spirit of our new friendship, Lexy, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear the cruel and hurtful comments you just whispered behind my back.”

“I mean, he does have a point,” Kaz said. “You’re GQ photoshoot, _not_ Vogue runway.”

“Well, if you _must_ know, their new head-of-house was inspired by one of my family’s old relics from the Demon War,” Arcangelo said. “He wanted to use it as a prop in the show, but it can’t be held or accessed by anyone who isn’t a member of the Corelli family.”  

“So, _that’s_ why they gave you the coat,” Kaz said.

“Yes, a pretty transparent bribe, really,” Arcangelo answered. “But I hadn’t been able to find a decent overcoat in any shade of purple _all_ season. I’d planned to turn them down and just pay for the coat the normal way—you know, with money—but then I thought ‘Kaz works all the time, and he’ll be there, I might as well give it a try.’”

Lexy and Gottlieb exchanged looks again, as Arcangelo walked past them toward the food table that had been set out. He picked up one of the pastries and examined it. “Cronuts? Aren’t these a bit out of fashion? You’d think Vogue would know which Franken-desserts were in.” He shrugged. “Oh well.”

At that moment a tall woman with black and blond streaked hair walked into the room and up to Kaz. She wore a haute couture dress, more extreme than any of the runway designs Kaz had been examining. The brown dress came down to mid-thigh and had stripes made of a thick fringe that went all the way up the skirt. The bodice was covered by a gold wire-framed harness that stuck out from the front, her shoulders, and her neck almost like a halo.

“Ralph.. Purple Label… Tom Ford… Gucci shoes… yes, this is acceptable to us. Vogue is pleased to see you in something from this season, Kaz Kaan.”

Kaz shook her hand. “Ah, thanks. You’re Sky Hume, right? Vice Chancellor from the Fashion Ministry of Vogue. Here, just in case you need to contact Kaan Security again.” Kaz handed her one of the business cards, which she took and put in her pocket.

Before Kaz could finish talking to her, Hume caught sight of Arcangelo, gasped, and rushed over to him. She slapped the cronut he was halfway through eating out of his hand.

“Ow!” Arcangelo glared at her.

“And what on earth do you think you’re doing?” she asked. The gold sunglasses she was wearing made it impossible to see much of her expression, though her voice indicated great displeasure.

“Umm, what on earth do you think _you’re_ doing?” Arcangelo asked. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yes, you are Arcangelo Corelli. You signed a contract last night to be one of Vogue’s models,” the woman said. “And Vogue models don’t just… eat.” Hume let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Certainly not on runway day, they don’t.”

“Ugh, forget this. I qu—” Arcangelo had  grabbed another cronut, but then noticed that Kaz was staring at him and stopped moving. “I mean… I… ‘work’… _for_ you?” Arcangelo was obviously still attempting to wrap his head fully around the concept. “So... I _can’t_ have the cronut? Because you told me not to?”

“Of course not!” the Vice Chancellor said.

“Well, this sucks.”

Kaz smiled, amused. “Welcome to the incomparable suffering that is a full workday, Arcangelo.”

Arcangelo looked sadly at the table full of pastries, but didn’t say anything.

Kaz looked at Hume. “Now, as I was about to say that since most of this came straight from the Paris show, and their security is so tight, I probably only need to check the stuff that is new for Neo Yokio. It would be great if I could get a list of that.”

“Yes, yes. We will get it to you after we deal with this… disaster.” Hume looked Arcangelo up and down. “In the meantime,you can start with the new additions to Balmain’s line fitted for this new model with the hideous, unconventional body type.”

“Got it.”

“Now come, we must see how much your disgusting human shape ruins the clothes. Perhaps something can be done to salvage it,” the Vice Chancellor said. She grabbed Arcangelo by the wrist and began to pull him away.

Lexy walked over to Kaz and looked over at the dressing tables where Arcangelo had been taken. “Look, I know you said to give him a chance, but the red flags blondie’s been dropping? You can see that shit from space. Seriously, why is he even doing this job?”

“What are you talking about, Lexy? I’m glad he’s here. I think it’s great that Arcangelo is going to know what it’s like to have a miserable job with an abusive boss,” Kaz said. “Perhaps the experience will humble him.”

“Keep your filthy artisan hands off me!” Arcangelo shouted at one of the designers who was trying to take his measurements on the other side of the room, causing Kaz and the others to look at him for a moment.

Kaz turned back to their conversation, showing no visible reaction to Arcangelo’s outburst. Lexy, however, looked more put-out than before.

“And it _was_ pretty nice of him to set up this job for you guys,” Kaz pointed out. “I really like feeling as if I’m not the only one who has to work today.”

“Man, you cannot just keep acting like this shit’s not totally wack!” Lexy said. “How did he know you’d be working here? How did he know that you needed the card holder? And are we _really_ supposed to believe he just decided to update his look and rebrand on the _same day_ Agatha told you to do it?”

“He’s just being a supportive friend, which is more than you guys have done recently,” Kaz answered, folding his arms. “You didn’t even come visit me for Christmas!”

“Oh, not this again,” Gottlieb said. “Dude, you were sick. And you didn’t even _invite_ us!”

“And it’s not like Arcangelo came to see you either,” Lexy added.

“Actually, for your information, he _did_ ,” Kaz said. The look on his face implied he’d been waiting quite some time for the opportunity to acquaint his friends with that fact.

“What?” Lexy and Gottlieb asked together.

“No way!” Gottlieb said.

Lexy looked at Charles. “Is he for real?”

“Indeed he is, Lexy. Mr. Corelli was there when Sadie arrived home after Mass,” Charles confirmed. “Dressed as Santa Claus, in fact. I believe he came in through the window.”

“Yeah, he brought me some of those new Gucci scented candles and a peppermint latte. Then we played some video games,” Kaz said. “After that we just sort of started hanging out.”

“So, you’re saying you told him about all the shit with Agatha and the rebranding before you told us?” Gottlieb asked.

“Well, he texted me right after it happened!”

“Let me be sure I’ve got this,” Lexy said. “You’ve been sneaking around having some sort of secret bromance with that old money fuckboy for weeks now and didn’t think to mention it to us?”

“We were still pretending to be enemies,” Kaz answered, turning away in a self-righteous manner. “You might have blown our secret.”

“So, you just decided to lie to us?” Gottlieb asked.

“Yeah, Kaz, I thought we were your friends!” Lexy said.  

“You two are making way too big a deal out of this,” Kaz said. “But if you’re really this upset over me hanging out with Arcangelo, maybe you'll think twice before ditching me next holiday season. Now, if you’ll excuse me, _I_ have work to do.”

And with that, Kaz turned sharply and walked away.

* * *

 

Kaz ran his glowing hands over the mannequin that Arcangelo and his designer were standing next to. He then moved on to the long, thin case on the dressing table. “I assume this is the artifact you brought?”

“Yeah, should I open the case?” Arcangelo asked.

“Nah. It’s not an issue. I can just scan the whole thing.” Kaz ran his hands over it. “Okay, we’re good here. Thanks.”

“Good.” The designer reached over and began to try helping Arcangelo out of his coat. “You are on stage in an hour, you need to get changed.”

Arcangelo shrugged him off, clearly annoyed. He removed the coat and handed it to Kaz. “Would you mind having someone hang this up for me, new BFF?”

“Sure.” Kaz looked around as Arcangelo removed his sweater and then began to unbutton the shirt underneath. Kaz watched at him for a few moments before he realized what he was doing and looked decidedly over at the coat rack on the other side of the room. “You know what? I’ll just do it.”

In the mirror, Arcangelo smiled as he watched Kaz turn sharply and head over toward the other side of the room. “Thanks buddy.”

Kaz hung up the coat with a slightly concerned look on his face, which cleared immediately when he noticed the many other coats on the rack. He smiled and reached out to feel them.

“Oh, Mr. Kaan, fancy running into you here.” Kaz’s whole body tensed at the sound of the Remembrancer’s voice.

Kaz took a deep breath before turning to face him. He folded his arms defensively and shot a defiant look up at the Remembrancer. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m sure you _can_ help me with quite a few things, such as my ongoing investigation into Ms. Saint Tesoro's attack on the bachelor board. But at this point I know better than to hope you will actually do so.” The Remembrancer looked around, pausing on Arcangelo’s coat. “What a lovely Balmain. I’ve never seen one in that color before. What is that? Dark plum?”

“It’s midnight aubergine. And it’s custom,” Kaz answered tersely.  

“Well, it’s clearly not yours. An elegant, high ranking bachelor, such as yourself, wouldn’t have come here wearing _two_ overcoats, especially when one clashed with the rest of his outfit,” the Remembrancer smirked a bit and reached out to touch the coat. “Tell me, who _does_ it belong to?”

“Someone who probably wouldn’t want you putting your gross, vape juice scented hands all over it!” Kaz pushed it further down the rack out of his reach.

The Remembrancer considered Kaz’s words for a moment. “If that’s true, then between the attitude, the exclusivity, and the color, I’m willing to bet that coat belongs to Mr. Arcangelo Corelli. But, in that case, why were _you_ holding it? He’s your arch-nemesis, isn’t he?”

“What exactly are you getting at? And what are you even doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered. “Although I don’t need to. I heard that vile aunt of yours has somehow tricked the Vogue High Chancellor into hiring you for security. I, however, am not convinced that you are willing or able to protect this show, _or_ the valuable Demon War artifact that the Corelli family has released from their family vault.”

“I don’t need your help to do my job!” Kaz said.

The Remembrancer let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m not here to _help_ you. I’m here to arrest you.” He glanced over at the case on the dressing table.“The second you screw up and get that precious Corelli family treasure destroyed, they’ll back my petition to revoke your Magistocratic immunity. And then it’s all over for you.”

“Is there a problem here?” Arcangelo had suddenly appeared next to Kaz. He was still wearing his own pants, but he’d apparently thrown a purple, striped robe with a thick gold belt on over them.

The Remembrancer looked shocked and upset for a moment, before shoving it down and putting on a smile to address Arcangelo. “Good to see you, Mr. Corelli, as always.” He caught sight of Arcangelo’s robe and reached forward and touched the lapel. “Versace baroque terry-cloth bathrobe, very nice.”

“Excuse you,” Arcangelo jerked the robe out of his grip and readjusted it. “The last thing I want is for my lounge-wear to smell like the cheapest vape shop in Queens. Now, I believe I asked you a question. Don’t make me ask it again.”

“Very well. No, I don’t _think_ there’s a problem,” the Remembrancer answered. He looked at Kaz. “Assuming, of course, that Mr. Kaan here can refrain from committing any more acts of treason against the state.”

Arcangelo’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the Remembrancer for a moment, before he gave a brief, harsh laugh.

The Remembrancer was baffled. “What’s so funny?”

“Well, you, of course,” Arcangelo said. Although his voice was light there was a clear threat buried just beneath its affable surface. “At least, I _hope_ that was meant to be a joke. I can’t imagine someone we founding families saw fit to elevate to the position of Remembrancer being so stupid as to imply that Kaz Kaan, the most skilled _and_ fashionable magistocrat in Neo Yokio—as well as my personal security consultant and new best friend—could _possibly_ be involved in some sort of nefarious plot against our fair city.”

The Remembrancer’s eyes narrowed and he looked from Arcangelo to Kaz and back again, obviously unconvinced. “ _You’re_ one of his clients?”

“That’s right.” Arcangelo instantly produced the Kaan Security business card and held it up for the Remembrancer to see.

“Ooh… titanium business cards. Very nice.” The Remembrancer leaned forward to look at them, his eyes narrowing when he realized that Arcangelo’s finger was covering Kaz’s number. “May I see that?”

Arcangelo gave him a small, fake smile as he quickly closed his hand around the card and put it into his pocket. “Sorry, clients only. If you want one, you’ll have to hire Kaan Security yourself, assuming you can afford it.” He paused for a moment, his smile turning downright vicious. “Oh, wait, we pay your salary, and you _definitely_ can’t. Nevermind.”

Arcangelo put his hands on Kaz’s shoulders and gently turned him away from the Remembrancer. “Come on, homefry, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Kaz glared at the Remembrancer over his shoulder. “See, I told you he was a total prick,” Kaz’s voice was more than loud enough for the Remembrancer to still hear him. He looked at Arcangelo and fell silent for a moment. “Hey, sorry if I was weird when you showed up today. You’ve actually been super helpful.”

A surprisingly genuine smile spread across Arcangelo’s face. “Don’t mention it. And the Remembrancer shouldn’t bother you again.” Arcangelo leaned down so he could speak softly into Kaz’s ear. “But I can make sure of that, if you want. Can’t promise I’ll be nice about it, though.”

“Why would I care about him?” Kaz seemed confused. “Go for it.”

Arcangelo smiled then turned around to shoot one more look at the Remembrancer. “Oh, and, Remembrancer? In the future, do keep in mind that the founding families have little use for a dog that can’t stay on its leash.”

The Remembrancer bowed his head slightly, as they walked away.  “A valuable piece of advice, Mr. Corelli.” He looked up at them and smirked. “For you as well, Mr. Kaan.”

Kaz’s expression shifted instantly from pleased to suspicious, and he pulled coldly out of Arcangelo’s grasp. “I should go.”  

Arcangelo froze. “W-Wait! Kaz!” Arcangelo called after him, unable to keep the distress out of his voice.

Kaz stopped and turned around to look at him.

Arcangelo looked nervous for a moment before giving Kaz a carefree smile. “Why you gotta be that way, home biscuit? We were having fun, right?”

“See? I told you,” the Remembrancer said. “The favor of the old houses can be a most fickle mistress.”

Kaz shook his head in disbelief then folded his arms, obviously upset.  “If you’ll excuse me I actually _have_ to work.” Kaz turned dramatically away from Arcangelo before heading out of the room.

Before he reached the door, the Vogue Vice Chancellor walked in through it.

“Oh, Mr. Kaan, we have the list you asked for.” She held out a piece of paper.

Kaz barely stopped to speak as he walked past her. “Thanks.” Kaz snatched the paper out of her hand without looking at it. He then walked out the door, watched by a visibly crestfallen Arcangelo.

Once Kaz was gone, Arcangelo’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He began to move toward the Remembrancer, but the Vice Chancellor spotted him.

“Mr. Corelli! What are you doing? You need to be sewn in! The show begins in less than an hour!” She grabbed him by the shoulders to push him toward the dressing table.  

Arcangelo shot a glare at her, but didn’t try to jerk away. Arcangelo leaned in close to speak to the Remembrancer as they walked by, making sure Hume wouldn't overhear him. His voice and expression were uncharacteristically serious. “You _will_ regret this.”  

The Remembrancer smiled as Arcangelo walked away from him. “We shall see about that, Mr. Corelli. We shall see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading and if you want to see pictures of any of this stuff check out my Tumblr (say-im-your-homie). 
> 
> But I've realized that I should probably also just list things with how much they cost here as well. So, here you go (there wasn't much in this chapter):   
> Gucci Scented Candles: $390-$790  
> Versace Purple Baroque Bathrobe: $600 
> 
> If you can, please take a moment to tell me what you thought/liked, again I just want to be sure this is worth the time/energy investment, and since I’ve sort of made this my “write an actual full season of a show” project want to know how it’s going.


	3. Part I: Rebranding for the New Season - Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preoccupied with the Remembrancer's insinuations and suspicious of Arcangelo's true intentions, Kaz's mental state has once again been thrown into disarray. However, before he can indulge in his latest bout of melancholy, Kaz discovers a demonic threat to the Fashion Show, with Arcangelo at the center. Can Neo Yokio's two Most Eligible Bachelors work together defend their friendship from both metaphorical and physical threats?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the (finally) the last chapter for the first part, or episode, of the story. The next parts I’m going to try to make at most two chapters, but this had a lot of exposition. I was really happy with this chapter, though, I think it balances out the last one which was a little exposition heavy. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> And, of course, I'd like to thank NeoYokioPoliceDepartment (on Tumblr) for continuing to beta this fic. Your work is invaluable.
> 
> As always, comments of any kind and kudos are greatly appreciated. Anyone who has already commented, it means a lot. And thanks everyone for reading!

Kaz walked out to the front of the house, where the crew was still doing the last of the set-up for the fashion show. He spotted Charles standing next to Lexy and Gottlieb’s bar and walked over to them. Kaz folded his arms on top of the bar and placed his head on top of them as he sat down, with a particularly emotive sigh. He dropped the list he was holding onto the bar, right in front of Herbert, who he had totally failed to notice was sitting next to him. “I should have known better than to trust Arcangelo!”

Lexy and Gottlieb exchanged looks. “I mean, I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I _did_ tell you so,” Lexy said.

“Hey, don’t even trip dog,” Gottlieb said, putting a caprese cocktail down in front of him. “It’s not on you. East Siders are the worst.”

Herbert and Charles exchanged looks as well, but of a much more distressed variety. “Oh no! Say it isn’t so, Mr. Kaan!” Herbert said. His tone was somewhere between disappointed and angry. “I’d waited years for the two of you to become friends. It simply can’t be over so quickly!”

For a brief moment, Kaz looked up, moderately surprised by Herbert’s presence. “Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Sales Clerk, but it is.”

“If I may, sir, what exactly has Mr. Corelli done to inflict such grievous psychic wounds?” Charles asked.

Obviously offended, Kaz suddenly sat up, knocking the list to the ground. “Psychic wounds? _Him_? Charles, you must be joking! I don’t give a damn what that blond prick thinks!”

“Of course not,” Charles assured him. “I simply thought that you might wish to discuss the situation, on the off-chance there had been some sort of misunderstanding between the two of you.”

Herbert reflexively dropped down onto the floor to pick up the piece of paper. “Excuse me, Mr. Kaan, but you dropped…” He trailed off as he caught sight of something on the list. “Oh my. I had no idea something like _that_ would be here. How incredibly exciting! No wonder they wanted you to work security. I’m sure a demon would love an opportunity to destroy something both so valuable and dangerous to them.”

Kaz looked at him, annoyed both at the prospect of work and his attention potentially being focused on something other than his complaints .”What are you talking about?” Kaz snatched the paper out of Herbert’s hand and looked at it. Kaz’s eyes widened and he went silent as he looked down at the list. His face fell. “That basic bitch.”

Kaz growled as he clenched his fist, crumpling the piece of paper in his hand. He got up from the bar and headed backstage again.

“Oh dear,” Charles said as he watched Kaz storm off. “Perhaps we should follow him.”

Herbert clapped in an almost delighted fashion. “Oh yes! I’d hate to miss even a moment of this exhilarating drama!”

Once Kaz entered the dressing room, he headed straight for Arcangelo. Arcangelo was sitting in a chair in front of his dressing table, he’d grabbed the designer by the wrist for trying to touch his hair. “What did I say about your hands, peasant? If they’re not clean enough to touch my clothes, they’re _certainly_ not clean enough to go anywhere near my hair!”

“Arcangelo!” Kaz yelled at him to get his attention, as Charles, Herbert, Lexy and Gottlieb all came in behind him.

Arcangelo looked up at him and smiled, apparently not noticing Kaz’s foul mood. “Kaz, there you are!” He let go of the designer and pushed him away. “I knew you’d come around, broseph! What do you think of my outfit?”

Arcangelo held out his arms to show off his ensemble. He was wearing a midnight blue military jacket over a slightly lighter midnight blue shirt embroidered with gold to resemble a nineteenth century military uniform.  

“It’s amazing, of course, but that’s not the point! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaz leaned over Arcangelo, clearly angry. Arcangelo seemed surprised at first, but then relaxed. A smug look spread across his face as he pushed himself forward a bit to look Kaz directly in the eyes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this. Looks good.” Arcangelo smirked as he looked Kaz up and down. “Who knew vexation went so well with Chairman’s Navy?”

“Stop messing around, Arcangelo!” Kaz said, leaning over him. “We need to talk.”

“Oh, I’m listening,” Arcangelo answered. He sat up a bit and moved forward, closing much of the remaining distance between them. “Or, did you want to go somewhere more private?”

“This is serious!” Kaz said. He thrust the list he was holding at Arcangelo, pushing him back down into the chair. “Did you actually bring this thing here?”

“This piece of paper?” Arcangelo examined the paper Kaz was holding up for him, obviously confused.

“No, you idiot! The Holy Corelli Fiend—”  Kaz looked at the piece of paper, “Repression and Eradication Blade Canon.”

Arcangelo’s attitude shifted instantly, dropping the playfully argumentative facade as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was annoyed and confused by how quickly the situation had gone from fun to serious. “Yeah, I told you I brought some musty old relic from the Demon War. So what? You didn’t care about it before.”

“Yeah, because I thought it was something dumb and unimportant like a pocket watch.”

“Why would you think it was a pocket watch?” Arcangelo asked.

“N-No reason!” Kaz looked at Charles for a brief moment, slightly flustered, before looking back at Arcangelo and growing serious again. “The point is I had no idea you brought that thing here!”

“Man, what are they talking about?” Gottlieb leaned over to ask Lexy.

“Don’t look at me, G,” Lexy answered.

“The Holy Corelli Fiend Repression and Eradication Blade Canon is a powerful gunblade from the Demon War,” Charles explained. “Blessed by the church and enchanted by powerful Magistocrats, legend has it the blade is one of the few weapons in the world capable of allowing non-Magistocrats to vanquish demons, as the gun barrel fires not bullets, but blasts of pure holy energy.”

“Of course, the Corelli family would never be willing to give up form for function, so it’s also incredibly beautiful. All of the metal is gold plated, with diamond and emerald accents, and grips made from the finest ivory. And the entire surface was engraved with epic battle scenes from the war by Colt’s master engraver, Gustave Young. Until now, it’s always been held in the consecrated vault on the Corelli Family Estate on the uppermost edge of the East Side,” Herbert said. “I can’t believe we’ll actually get to see it today!”

“Again, so what? Like I said earlier, it’s just here to be a prop! Honestly, I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Arcangelo said loudly enough that everyone looked back over at he and Kaz’s argument.

“The big deal is that you _knew_ I couldn’t mess this up and you decided to turn the whole fashion show into a giant target for a major robbery _and_ a demonic attack!” Kaz answered.

“Woah! Lemon down, my strawberry-iced bronut,” Arcangelo said, his tone relaxed once more. He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “For starters, no one outside of the Corelli family can even _use_ the sword. And as for killing demons, I’m not even sure the thing still works.”

“You mean like the family that owns it?” Kaz was still angry. “What _was_ all of this anyway? Just some elaborate scheme to ruin me? Is _that_ what’s really been going on this whole time?”

For a moment, Arcangelo froze. He was shocked and, possibly, hurt by the accusation. “W-What?”

“It is, isn’t it? If no demons show up, then you get all the limelight and everyone sees you here, while I have to hide in the back and miss the entire show. And if they _do_ show up, you get to play the victim while I look like a blundering fool! You’ve just been pretending to be my friend, when in reality all you care about is pushing me so far down the Bachelor Board you don’t have to worry about me ever again! I knew you could play dirty, Arcangelo, but I never thought you’d do anything like this! You could ruin my family’s whole business!”

Arcangelo looked at him for a few more long moments, his eyes then widened slightly  before he burst out laughing. Kaz just watched him, more bewildered than angry.

“Man, Kaz, you should hear yourself. You sound _crazy_ paranoid. I’m sorry, this was definitely my fault. I should have realized how keyed up you were yesterday.” Arcangelo’s tone was light and friendly again. “That aunt of yours really has your dick in a blender, doesn’t she?”

Arcangelo stood up as Kaz watched him, still a bit skeptical. “Look, obviously no demons have shown up yet, but if you’re _that_ worried about the dumb sword.” Arcangelo picked the case up off the table. “I’ll just take it home right now.”

“But then you’d miss the first show of the new year,” Kaz said. He didn’t seem to fully believe what was hearing. “You’d really do that?”

“If you want.” Arcangelo gave Kaz a characteristic disquieting, yet almost tender, smile. “After all, what are friends for? Right, Kaz?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Kaz said, as he fully processed the situation. He gave Arcangelo a relieved smile. “Thanks, Arcangelo.”

Arcangelo reach over and put an arm around Kaz’s shoulder. “No problem, bestie.” He looked over at the Vice Chancellor on the other side of the room. “Hey, so, in case you didn’t hear that, I quit.”

The Vice Chancellor stormed over to them. “You what? You can’t just quit!”

“Well, I ‘just’ did,” Arcangelo answered. “What’s the price tag on me pulling out of this? And should I make that a check or wire transfer? I’m assuming I can’t just swipe my black card somewhere.”

“It’s not about the money!” The Vice Chancellor seemed to be getting more and more angry.

Arcangelo sighed. “I swear, you artistic types are always so dramatic. Money is the medium by which humans value all goods and services. I am refusing to provide a service for you. Tell me the _value_ of that service and I will happily recompense you with money. Do you understand?”

Arcangelo reached down to remove his wallet from the pocket of the pants that were folded on the dressing table. As he did so, a blast of yellow energy sped right over his head. “Huh? What th—?”

“Arcangelo! Move!” Kaz pulled Arcangelo out of the way of another blast of energy.

Arcangelo looked up to see the Vice Chancellor with totally black eyes and surrounded by yellow light. The demon laughed. “Just think, I’ll have a chance to destroy the demon killer _and_ put an end to the revolting Corelli bloodline at the same time!”

Arcangelo turned to look at the demon. “Holy moley in a fuck bucket!”  

“Well, actually, since that’s a demon, it’s not ‘holy’ at all,” Kaz corrected. He just barely managed to intercept yet another blast of energy aimed at Arcangelo with one of his own. “Now, I would appreciate it if you’d get out of my way. That goes for everyone else too!”

“On it!” Arcangelo rushed away from the demon and behind Kaz, his hair fluttering gracefully behind him as he did so. He looked at Charles, Lexy, and the other people still in the room. “You heard him! It’s time to knuck and buck, my little woodchucks.”

The demon rushed over toward the case, but Kaz beat her to it. He grabbed the case by the handle, but it didn’t move when he pulled on it. “Damn! Why won’t it move?”

While he was distracted by the case, the demon hit Kaz with an energy blast, knocking him backwards, just as Arcangelo was about to follow the others out of the room. Arcangelo froze at the sight of Kaz slamming into the dressing mirror.

“Mr. Corelli, we should—” Before Charles could finish, Arcangelo was already darting back over to Kaz, who had slid down the wall as broken mirror shards fell to the floor around him, his eyes closed.

The demon walked over to Kaz, then stopped and stood over him, her hands glowing as she prepared to hit him at full force. Suddenly the demon was knocked across the room. Arcangelo was now holding the case, having clearly just used it to hit the Vice Chancellor as hard as he could.

“You do _not_ get to interrupt my conversations with my best homie! Back the hell off!” Arcangelo knelt down to help Kaz up just as he came around and opened his eyes. “Now, where were we?”

Kaz pulled away from Arcangelo and stepped in front of him. “I was telling you to get out of here. You’re just going to get in the way.”

“Kaz, look, I got you into this. Just let me help!”

The demon laughed. “And what do you think _you_ can do? You’re literally the _embodiment_ of this city’s weakness and moral decay! Your ancestors led actual armies! Now you’re using that history as a fashion statement! They’d probably be even more disgusted with you than I am! You’re really the ultimate herb!”

Another burst of energy bolted across the room toward them. Arcangelo reflexively held up the case to stop it. The energy blast disintegrated the case until it hit the blade inside, which caused it to stop. A gold engraved, gem encrusted gunblade fell out of the case and onto the ground.

Kaz was now staring at the remains of the case Arcangelo was holding, having just noticed it. “What the—? Arcangelo, how did you move that thing? It felt like it weighed five hundred pounds!”

“I think it’s one thousand, actually,” Arcangelo said.

“B-But then… h-how?”

“To anyone who isn’t in the Corelli family, that is,” Arcangelo explained. “To us it just feels like a normal sword. Magistocrats enchanted it that way back during the war. That’s why I thought it was weird you were so worried about someone stealing it.”

“A thousand pounds, huh?” the demon said as she looked down at it. “Guess if I’m going to take it, I’ll be needing some backup!”

The demon extended her hands and the mannequins in the room were surrounded by yellow light. They began to move in toward Kaz and Arcangelo in a menacing fashion. She pointed at Arcangelo. “Get the demon killer!”

Kaz blasted an empty mannequin close to them then looked at Arcangelo. “You want to help, Arcangelo? Fine. Then pick up that fancy sword of yours and _actually_ help!”

Arcangelo picked it up, then looked at Kaz moderately confused. “You mean hit the things with it?”

“Yes! That’s what I mean!”

“Okay, okay!” Arcangelo said. He swung the gunblade at one of the naked mannequins near him, hitting it with the broadside and knocking it across the room. “Oh hey! This is just like field hockey.”

“Arcangelo! Focus!” Kaz said, clearly annoyed as he blasted another mannequin that was about to attack Arcangelo.

“Sorry!” Arcangelo answered. His eyes widened as he turned to look at Kaz. “Kaz! Behind you! Look out for that Chanel!”

“Damnit!” Kaz turned around and blasted the mannequin behind him. It slammed into the wall and its pastel blue and pink tweed tank top, jacket and skirt fell off in pieces. Kaz’s expression clouded with sadness and he looked solemnly at the ground. “Forgive me, Coco, for I have sinned.”

The demon laughed. “Hand over the demon-killer or I’ll force you to rip every piece of this tacky, unwearable garbage to shreds!”

Both Kaz and Arcangelo gasped in offense and outrage.

“Haute Couture is _not_ tacky!” Kaz said, resolutely. “The lack of mundane functionality serves to open the mind to new possibilities, both in fashion and in life!”

Arcangelo looked fondly over at Kaz for a brief moment, before striking down another mannequin. The blade sliced through it easily, destroying the floor length, bright red fur trench coat and unusually long necked orange and red turtleneck underneath it. “No! Not the Oscar de la Renta!” He looked at Kaz. “Is your work always this emotionally difficult?”

“ _Work_ is emotionally difficult,” Kaz answered. “Though I’ll admit I’ve had to destroy a lot more bespoke items than usual recently. It’s been a particularly dark time.”

Arcangelo made a face of discomfort as he chopped a dress made of neon green tassels to pieces. “There must be something we can do to make this less unbearable.”

“Well, Charles _is_ always saying that prayer is the answer to unsolvable problems. Perhaps we can say a prayer for the fallen, in order to ease their passing.” Kaz took a deep breath and closed his eyes reverently for a moment. “Our designers who art in fashion, hallowed be—”

“I know it is not my place to tell you how to do your job, sir,” Charles said from the doorway, as Kaz blasted another mannequin. “However, I must protest to this gross abuse of the Lord’s Prayer.”

“He’s right,”  Arcangelo said. “This is utterly distasteful.”

“Thank you, Mr. Corelli.”

“If we want this to be a proper tribute, we’ll need music as well,” Arcangelo finished, much to Charles’s dismay.

“So true,” Kaz agreed. “Charles, play Mozart’s _Requiem Mass_.”

Charles sighed. “The “Lacrimosa,” I assume, sir.”

“What else would fit such a dark tragedy?”  

“Very well,” a defeated Charles said before playing the requested piece.

“Ah, that’s much better. Now, where were we?” Kaz donned a grim expression before blasting another mannequin and turning a pale pink rain floor-length poncho covered in red strings to tatters. “Our designers who art in fashion, hallowed be thy brand names.”

Arcangelo brought his blade down dramatically, cutting a banana-yellow leopard print suit right down the center. “Thy Seasons come. Thy will be done, on the street as it is on the runway.”

“Give us this day our daily couture; and forgive us our faux pas, as we forgive those whose faux pas offend us.” Kaz destroyed a mannequin dressed in a pale yellow suit with a loud, upholstery-esq pink and orange floral print with a large leather choker.

“And lead us not into distaste, but deliver us from drabness.” A mannequin dressed in a white feather covered shirt lept at Arcangelo, tackling him and pinning him to the ground. He managed to wrestle the gunblade away from it and stabbed it repeatedly in the torso, causing white feathers to rain down on him before it finally stopped moving. He pushed himself up so he was kneeling over it, his blond hair falling forward to cast a dramatic shadow over his face as he shoved the sword into it for a final time. “For thine is the Chloe, the Prada, and the Gucci forever and ever.”

As he started to get up, Arcangelo noticed the one of the Kaan Security business cards on the ground. He gave it a puzzled look before picking it up. As he caught his breath, Arcangelo dusted the last of the feathers off of his military-prince ensemble.  

Kaz finished off the final mannequin and its red and white hooded coat lined with thick, bright blue fur fell to the ground in several pieces. Kaz looked over at Arcangelo and they both turned toward the possessed Vice Chancellor.

Kaz shot a few energy blasts at her as Arcangelo rushed her. Arcangelo knocked her to the ground, then stood over her with his blade at her throat.

Kaz walked up beside him and held up a single glowing hand. “Okay, so, that—” Kaz made a face, then looked over at Charles. “Charles, cut the music!”

The music stopped abruptly.

Kaz looked back at the demon. “So, that was _really_ annoying. Not only was it a tragic waste of beautiful couture, it was totally avoidable.” He shot a quick, passive-aggressive look at Arcangelo. “Now, tell me how you did it. How did you get into the fashion show? The Vice Chancellor was awful before, but she wasn’t a demon. You must have possessed the her at some point during the day.”

“Are you sure of that?” she asked. “Maybe I was always a demon, like your old flame, Sailor.”

“Nope.” Arcangelo knelt down next to her, then took the business card he was holding and shoved it against the Vice Chancellor’s cheek. It began to sizzle loudly and she cried out in pain. “See, these cards are consecrated. And you took one earlier, so you definitely weren’t a demon then. Try again.”

“Arcangelo! Stop!” Kaz pulled him back. “You’re just hurting the host body!”

Arcangelo nodded, his expression made it clear he hadn’t considered that. “R-Right. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Honestly, given that this was your first day of work, you’re doing pretty well,” Kaz answered. He looked back at the Vice Chancellor. “I checked everyone and everything here. There’s no way you could have gotten past me.”

“Not _everyone_ ,” the possessed Vice-Chancellor said. She looked over at Arcangelo and then at Charles, Lexy, Gottlieb, and Herbert, who were still watching from the doorway. She lowered her voice so only Kaz and Arcangelo could hear her. “Not the people you thought you could trust.”

Arcangelo’s eyes widened and he pointed the gunblade at her again. He also kept his voice quiet. “Are you saying someone close to Kaz is a demon sympathizer? Who is it?”

The demon smirked. “Guess blondie’s not as dumb as he looks.”

“He’s not, but to be fair, that’d be pretty hard to pull off,” Kaz said. “Now—”

“What the hell is going on here?” The Remembrancer shoved past Lexy and Gottlieb, forcing his way into the dressing room. “Where’s—” He gasped at the sight of the dressing room covered in broken mannequins and scraps of designer fabric. “My God! The show’s been ruined! ...Spirit of Gianni Versace protect us.”

He spotted at Kaz standing over the Vice Chancellor and pointed at him in accusation. “You! I knew you couldn’t be trusted! You did this on purpose!” He quickly marched over to Kaz.

“W-What? No!!” Kaz said. He held up his hands to stop the Remembrancer. “Wait! The Vice Chancellor is possessed! Stay back!”

Arcangelo darted over to intercept the Remembrancer. He forced a pleasant expression on his face as he glanced at the crowd that had now gathered in the doorway behind Charles, Herbert. “This is all a huge misunderstanding. Kaz was fighting the demon. We _both_ were. Any of these witnesses can tell you how amazing we looked. Am I right?” He said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

He raised a hand indicating he wanted input and many of the people in the doorway started cheering. Using the cheers for cover, Arcangelo lowered his voice so he could speak only to the Remembrancer. “Stop. _Now_. Last warning.”

The Remembrancer fell instantly silent, opting to glare at Kaz instead. Satisfied, Arcangelo turned back to Kaz and the demon, just in time to see her blast a distracted Kaz. He was thrown backwards into a wall and she made a dash for the window.

Arcangelo looked down at the gunblade in his hand. He then held it up and pointed it at the demon. “...In the name of Dior, de la Renta, and the Holy Ghost.” He pulled the trigger, shooting off a blast of pure white light. It hit the demon, causing her to drop to the ground. “Amen, bitch.”

He looked over at Kaz and smiled. “Guess it still works! That’s handy, huh?”

Kaz rushed over to the Vice Chancellor to check on her, with Arcangelo behind him. She opened her eyes, clearly confused. Kaz let out a sigh of relief. “Not dead. Good sign.” He held up a glowing hand and scanned her. “ _And_ not possessed. Maybe I won’t be fired, after all.”

As Vice Chancellor came to and looked around at the room, she began to scream. “W-What has happened? H-How… We—”

At that moment, there were a series of gasps that came from the doorway. A woman wearing a strapless black dress covered in thick Swarovski crystals with a large, metal crystal chandelier as an overskirt appeared at the doorway. Her hair was the lightest shade of blond and was towered high onto her head with chains of crystal hanging from it. She also wore a pair of crystal-studded sunglasses. Herbert gasped as she pushed him out of the way to walk into the room.

Herbert looked after her in pure, star-struck adoration. “It’s the Grand Lady Wintour,” his voice was a reverent whisper. “The Vogue High Chancellor. The undisputed queen of fashion and elegance. Here. In person. And she _touched_ me. This is the greatest day of my life.”

Kaz scrambled a bit as the High Chancellor approached him. Arcangelo put on a comfortable smile and gave her a bow. “Your Grace, please, allow me to explain.”

Lady Wintour looked at Kaz and Arcangelo. “Kaz Kaan and Arcangelo Corelli, Neo Yokio’s most eligible bachelors, no explanation is necessary. You have eliminated the demon. Vogue is not displeased. Kaz Kaan, we will review your performance and make a decision about your potential involvement in Fashion Week at a later date.” She looked at the Vice Chancellor. “Sky Hume. You have been possessed on the day of a major show and destroyed several priceless pieces of couture, as well as disrespected an important member of the Corelli family working in our show. Vogue is displeased. _Most_ displeased.”

“My liege,” the Vice Chancellor said. “We—

“There is no ‘we’ for you any longer. You are dismissed from Vogue without honor. Remove your couture.”

The Vice Chancellor made a face of utter desolation before removing her neck halo. Arcangelo looked on, smirking slightly.

Herbert rushed forward before she could set the harness down. “Enough elegant items have been disgraced today.” He turned toward Wintour, but looked at the ground out of respect. “Your Grace, please allow me the honor of collecting her ensemble and packaging it to be returned to you. I swear on my very life that it will not be damaged.”

Wintour looked at him, clearly somewhere between surprised and offended. “That is most forward of you. And you are?”

Herbert looked nervous but maintained his composure. “A Bergdorf’s Sales Clerk and ardent lover of couture.”

Wintour looked at Kaz and Arcangelo. “Can either of you gentlemen speak for him?”

Kaz and Arcangelo exchanged looks that indicated they didn’t really want to deal with it. Charles, who had walked into the room and was now standing behind them leaned over to Kaz. “Really, sir.”

Kaz sighed. “Yes. I can. He is a trustworthy and loyal servant of fashion.”

“Indeed he is,” Charles added. “In all the time I’ve worked as Mr. Kaan’s butler, I’ve never met anyone more devoted to the culture and spirit of Neo Yokio than this man.”

Wintour now seemed mildly intrigued. “I see. Very well, then. You may return it to us at the central office later this evening. What is your name?”

Herbert’s eyes lit up and he smiled.  “Sims, your Grace. Herbert Sims.”

“So, uh, what about the fashion show?” Everyone turned to see Matoko Goldberg and several of the other high society guests, who were now filtering into the dressing room with the models who had been thrown out earlier.

Wintour held her hands up dramatically. “The show is cancelled!”

Just as a wave of disappointment began to ripple through the crowd, Freddie Miles stepped forward. “Why so serious, everyone? All this means is that the after-party just became a right now party! My penthouse! I’ve got an open bar in a heated pool!” He gave the dejected models a charming smile. “And of course, given what happened, all of the models are more than welcome to join us.”

Everyone looked at each other for a moment, then cheered. They then began to filter out of the room, many high-fiving or patting Freddie on the back as they did so.

“Hey there.” Matoko smiled at a few of the particularly attractive female models. “If you’re going to Freddie’s, I’m happy to give you a ride.”

“Great.” Kaz watched as Matoko left the room followed by no less than three of the show’s hottest models with a melancholy expression. “I’m hardly in the proper headspace for a party right now.”

Freddie approached Kaz and Arcangelo. “You guys coming? It’s not a party without Neo Yokio’s two favorite bachelors.”

Kaz sighed and looked reluctantly at Freddie. Before he could speak, however, Arcangelo stepped in front of him. “I hate to say it, Fredster, but I’m totally wiped.” He held up his hand in a sort of half shrug. “Fighting demons is seriously hard work. I can’t believe Kaz here does it all the time. Besides, I have to get this magic sword canon-thing home. It sucks but I’m going to have to duck out. Rain check?”

“For sure, man,” Freddie answered. “Won’t be the same without you. What about you, Kaz? You’re down to party, right?”

“Actually,” Arcangelo said, putting an arm around Kaz’s shoulder. “Seeing as Kaz was my personal security consultant for the show tonight, he might have to come with me. What do you think, bud?” Arcangelo looked at him, clearly trying to convey that he was purposefully giving Kaz a choice. “Is it safe for me to go alone or do both of us have to spend a boring night in? It’s your call.”

Kaz looked at Arcangelo for a moment and smiled briefly. He then turned to Freddie. “As much as I hate to miss a Freddie Miles party, the last thing I need right now is to have one of my clients attacked while I’m out having fun. Sorry.”

“Major bummer. But I get it. Next time, then?”

“Definitely.”

* * *

 

“ _Third_?” Kaz asked, clearly distressed. He was still in his pajamas, as he’d just gotten up the next day. He fell backwards onto his bed and rolled over, wrapping himself tightly in the blankets and letting out a loud groan.

Charles took a step closer to the bed. “Sir, I know you’re upset. But perhaps you should focus on the strange events at last night’s fashion show. You never were able to determine how the Vice Chancellor became possessed. Your new rank on the Bachelor Board is hardly  reason to mope at a time like this.”

“Wrong, Charles! It’s the _perfect_ reason to mope!” Kaz answered. “I know Freddie’s party was a source of desperately needed joy after the dark shadow that engulfed yesterday’s fashion show. And I suppose it makes sense that he would be rewarded for it. But it’s completely unfair that Arcangelo’s ranking didn’t suffer from not attending as well! I’d think he’d pulled some sort of dirty trick, but he stayed here last night, so I know he didn’t go to the party behind my back or anything like that.”

“Do you really think Mr. Corelli would do that to you?”

“I don’t know _what_ he’d do anymore! At this point he’s become impossible to predict!” Kaz answered. “What I do know is that he always manages to grab the spotlight. Just look at last night. We _both_ fought the demon, the only reason anyone would be talking about him more than me is that he had that flashy gun-sword and was wearing that Balmain ensemble—which, admittedly, complemented one another perfectly—but, honestly, must he do _all_ the same things that I do? Fashion, field hockey, and now, fighting demons? It’s almost as if he exists to show me up.”

“Did you ever consider the possibility that you and Mr. Corelli simply share a great many common talents and interests and that it is, in fact, _society_ which forces you into competition with one another, not Mr. Corelli?”

The blanket bundle flopped over in a sort of pathetic way and curled up a bit. “Stop defending him, would you? I may be friends with him now, but he’s still the worst.”

“Do you really feel that way, sir? Or is it just easier to deal with his higher rank when you tell yourself you do?”

“It’s obviously both, Charles!” Kaz snapped.  

Charles was silent for a moment. “Oh my. This—it can’t be.”

“What is it now? Have I somehow managed to fall to fourth place in the last thirty seconds?”

“Not _you_ , sir, Mr. Corelli. I hadn’t fully checked the new list before, but from what I’m seeing _he’s_ now ranked fourth.” Charles sounded as if he could scarcely believe it.

“What? No way!” Kaz sat up, the blankets falling down around his shoulders as he did so. Kaz took a moment to think. “He had a field hockey match against Luke Silver-Greenberg’s team today. And he definitely went, if he was still here, he would have come into my room to annoy me by now. And even if he lost he shouldn’t have fallen _this_ far down the board. Who the hell’s second?”

“Mr. Miles is.”

Kaz seemed confused. “But that means—”

At that moment, Arcangelo burst into the room, still wearing his black and yellow field hockey uniform. He rushed over to Kaz’s bed and leapt onto it.

“Hey, Kaz.” Arcangelo’s boundless energy seemed far more nervous than usual, as he settled directly in front of Kaz. “We need to talk.”

Kaz held his hands up. He seemed a bit unsettled by Arcangelo’s demeanor. “Look, Arcangelo, I didn’t do anything. I have no idea how you ended up in fourth place, I swear.”

“I know.” Arcangelo assured him, calming down momentarily. He smiled and touched a finger to the tip of Kaz’s nose. “Besides, if _you_ were mad enough to push me all the way down to fourth, I’m sure I’d have done something to deserve it.”

Kaz shook his head a bit, aggressively trying to ignore the fact that he was flustered. “Well, I can certainly empathize with the anguish you no doubt are feeling over your loss in status. And, given the recent transformation of our relationship, I suppose I should do everything in my power to provide you with emotional support during this tumultuous time.” He looked down at Arcangelo’s feet. “However, before we continue this conversation, I’m going to need you to get those dirty Gucci Flashtrek sneakers of yours off my Sferra Giza 45 duvet.”

Arcangelo removed his shoes and tossed them to the side.

“Good. Now, tell me, how much do you know about what’s happening? Because from what I can tell, everything’s gone cuckoo bananas.”

“Well, that’s only to be expected, given the new Ichiban: the new ‘Vice Chancellor of Vogue’s Fashion Ministry,’” Arcangelo answered, somewhat bitterly. “He’s nothing like he was before, Kaz, he’s absolutely _terrible_ now.” Arcangelo looked momentarily vulnerable, as if recalling a particularly unpleasant memory. 

“Wait, are you saying we _know_ this guy?”

Arcangelo gave him a confused look. “Of course we do.”

“Well, I don’t bloody believe this!” Kaz and Arcangelo turned to look at Sadie, who had just popped out of the mech suit and was laughing loudly. “Neo Yokio’s new Number One Bachelor is Herbert fucking Sims!”

Kaz looked from Sadie to Arcangelo, confused. “Who?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it for this chapter. Obviously we’re left with a pretty big cliffhanger at the end, so I’ll go ahead and warn you now that it will probably be at least two weeks until the next update, because I’m writing a story for the Tumblr Secret Valentine’s Day exchange. I hope you’ll all enjoy that, though, it should be posted on Valentine’s Day, and it will be Kazangelo (obviously). 
> 
> Also, sorry I didn’t post any of the expensive junk on my Tumblr for last chapter, I’ll be doing all of the ones for this and the last chapter in the next few days probably. But if you just want to look at a list:  
> Gucci Flashtrek Sneakers: $980  
> Sferra 900-Fill Canadian Down Medium Weight King Duvet: $4005  
> Sferra King Giza 45 Duvet Cover: $1765
> 
> Please, if you have time Comment or Kudos. Thanks again to everyone who has done so in previous chapters!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Please at least Kudos if you liked it. This is a small fandom and I want to know it is worth my time to keep writing. If you can, I would really appreciate some comments as well, as I’m only posting so I can get some public feedback on my writing for the first time in about a year.
> 
> The story should be basically structured as a second season of the show. It’s got six parts. I wanted them to all be one chapter, but some (or all) of them might end up taking two depending on what happens in them. 
> 
> Everything in this story that is either a branded item or a rich person thing is real, unless I state otherwise. Some of the fashion things have been elevated from what they actually are to something more Neo Yokio-esq. New York Fashion Week is real, but it is a much bigger deal here. The Council of Fashion Designers of America has been changed to the High Council of Fashion Designers. Follow me on Tumblr (say-im-your-homie) to see pictures of all of the real ridiculous designer/affluent garbage and their respective prices. 
> 
> Also the VOGUE (Trademark) thing is basically a joke due to the fact that Vogue tried to trademark its name in our world and the courts shot it down. Obviously, that's not a thing in Neo Yokio, so now when people say "VOGUE" it comes with a (trademark) after it. 
> 
> Also Arcangelo’s dialogue is really hard to write. I never feel like it’s weird enough. Sorry if he’s too normal.
> 
> Thanks so much again for reading!


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